


The Shadow's Keeper

by Corehealer



Category: Ascian - Fandom, Final Fantasy XIV, Shadowbringers - Fandom
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Duelling, Eldritch, F/F, F/M, Full Moon, Gen, Light Dom/sub, Memory, Monsterfucking Baybey, Monsters, Other, Regret, Rip and tear, Shadows - Freeform, Shapeshifting, Soul Sex, Tenderness, Tentacle Sex, The Shadowkeeper, Vore, Wolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:21:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28757265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corehealer/pseuds/Corehealer
Summary: Some much needed and desired love for Cylva/Cyella, the dreaded Shadowkeeper, and another attempt at monsterfucking involving her wolf form from Eden 10. 5.4/Role Quest/Void Quest spoilers ahead, in passing, to set the scene for her character. Genderless reader insert WoL/Azem. One shot fic, though I imagine I'll return to her as a character in future one shots, both for monsterfucking and in the conventional smut sense.Cyella, also known as Cylva, has received a request from the Warrior of Darkness to meet them at night atop Laxan Loft's keep, in the garden of the Thrice Born. For what reason, she does not know, but she comes anyway, seeking to speak with them again after all the things they've done for her and the world at large of late. In their exchange, they come to learn a great deal about themselves, each other and their similarities. And, they come to see the shadows and the lights that hide in their hearts, yearning to break free and devour them.
Relationships: Cylva/Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)
Kudos: 10





	The Shadow's Keeper

“Have a good night Cyella!”

“You too, Glynard.”

Evening, in the Wandering Stairs. The night shift had begun, and Cyella, the barmaid dearest to old Glynard’s heart after years of dedicated service and her city famous and always rousing storytelling capabilities, had requested some time off for the night. Given how infrequently she requested such opportunities for a break, and given how quiet the clientele of the Crystarium’s largest bar were tonight, he saw no reason to deny her some rest. With a smile, he waved her off.

For her part, she had no expectation of rest this eve. In truth, she had no idea what to expect as she gathered together her traveling attire and began to make her way to the gates, towards Lakeland, now wreathed in night’s loving embrace.

The Warrior of Light. Of Darkness. They had requested her presence once again at Laxan Loft tonight. Atop the Hall of the Thrice Born where she had once bade them to meet her in turn, to kill her. To end her long suffering, and the guilt she felt over what had happened so long ago now with Ardbert and his companions. Her old friends.

Thanks to the Warrior, so much had changed for her and the world around her. Night had returned, and the sky even now shone a glittering diamond sea, spread across the raven’s gown above her as she strode across the creaking steel and wood of the bridge separating the city from the forests she knew so well. The cities of Eulmore and the Crystarium were at peace and working together for the first time in decades. Sin eaters were scarce, and becoming a thing of the past. Light’s power waned, and even the Empty now seemed to be beginning to return to some semblance of life.

And beyond even these gifts, the Warrior had, some days passed, surprised her with the youthful visage of a dear friend from her homeworld, a friend she had not seen in literal ages; Unukalhai, still as young in form as the day they had departed from Elidibus’ care to fulfill their respective roles for the Ascians. Tasks in service to the Rejoinings. A happy reunion after so long, and the first time she had shed tears in as long as she could remember.

He was spending this evening in Cerigg and Taynor’s company, as he often did after recent events, learning the arts of bounty hunting and practicing various magical arts with the young lad. The two had become fast friends as well. Cyella always smiled to think upon how happy the two of them looked, after her friend had gone so long without a soul to care for him. Leaving the city proper now and passing the checkpoints beyond with a nod to the guards, she came to think in turn about her own circumstances in relation to others.

She herself had spent so much time mourning her actions, her world, her life, such as it was. She was loved around the bar for her tales of the Warriors of old and even just of history, of the world before the Flood, but she could not consider any aside from perhaps Glynard a friend in truth. And there was a limit to that which the old Galdjent was capable of understanding of her own long tale. One that spanned worlds, eras and tragedies aplenty. One possessed of not much of worth to save now, and not much in the way of happy endings.

That was one thing she liked about this new Warrior, even as she had only known them a comparatively short time. They seemed to understand a great deal, as she surmised during their last meeting when she had revealed all of what she knew about the Ascians, the Warriors of Darkness, and her own history as the Shadowkeeper. When she had asked for release, and instead received a hand offered in redemption. She disbelieved the notion that she was worthy of such an offer, but they had been insistent.

Apparently, they had seen more in her than even she could see. She still thought on that often, and what it could be, as she worked away her days and drank away her nights. Only occasionally having the time and wherewithal to do any reading, or training to try and feel the weight of a sword in hand once more. Naught was like how it had been when she was in the height of her power, but she did miss some of the things she had known from that time.

Even without the weight of her plated armor at her back, she often felt as though she was bearing a terrible burden all the same.

After some time among the silent trees waving in the wind, with only crickets and the odd animal cry for company, she strode up the path to Laxan Loft and it’s nearly eerie silence. An empty castle, testament to a time long gone, its worn stones wearing thin with time and neglect. A place left to the dead, and generally avoided by Crystarium patrols.

The castle and parts around it were sometimes frequented by the tattered remnants of her own legacy; wolves, wargs and the undead, as well as the few elves who still clung to her false promises, terrorizing the land as bandits and worse. Had she the strength she once possessed, she thought, she would go and purge the lot of them. Undo her past with as much blood as was necessary, and then start anew.

Find whatever it was that the Warrior saw in her. That Ardbert had as well, when he had spared her life too. Whatever it was Unukalhai could see in her empty soul, when he smiled up at his old friend.

She reached the large door to the keep, and gazed up. Presumably, the hero of the First was already waiting there for her arrival. Patient and punctual, and often seemingly everywhere at once, helping everyone, barely resting. Just like her old friends, she thought with a brief smile. Just like him.

If anyone could give her some sense of peace, perhaps it would be them. They seemed to have a knack for such things.

She opened the old doors carefully, so as not to disturb their rotting wood overmuch, and walked inside to find the stairs going up.

***

She had been correct; there they were, standing in the small garden space atop the keep, waiting for her. She smirked.

“So, is it too much to hope that you have reconsidered not killing me, Warrior of Darkness?”

A chuckle, the Warrior’s arms crossing over their chest as they turned and regarded her approach.

“I’m not entirely convinced it’d stick, given what I know now about your ‘situation’, Cyella. Or was it Cylva? Which do you prefer?”

“They are just masks, for one who has long since forgotten the name they once received from parents long gone. A ruse, in both cases. Cyella works well enough in the current moment.”

She sighed, walking through the garden and past the Warrior in silent contemplation, before coming to rest leaned up against one of the trees planted in the garden, eyes now looking upward at the sky for a moment and the stars above before returning to regard the one in her midst.

“So, what do you want Warrior? Why did you call me up here at this late hour?”

A slight shift in posture, arms now at their sides, loose against their attire. A smile.

“I had some questions for you.”

“Nothing you could ask at the Stairs in polite company?”

“Not those sorts of questions, no. And nothing to do with Unukalhai, before you ask.”

She narrowed her eyes slightly.

“Well, you have my attention. Let’s see if you can also hold my interest. I’ve not had time off in some moons so… I’d rather try to make the most of it, if you please.”

“I am sure this will be worth your while, or at least, I’d like to hope so.”

“We’ll see then, won’t we? Ask your questions.”

The Warrior nodded, and walked over to the neatly arranged stones surrounding the tree where she had leaned herself to listen, before sitting down.

“I guess my first question is… less perhaps about simply asking you to live, as I did when last we spoke, just us. I want to know why you might want to live. What reasons you might have for going on. What you might get out of the future. Something positive, I hope?”

She placed a hand to her chin in thought, her white traveling blouse wafting slightly in the cool breeze.

“A strange thing to ask, and to think on. I don’t really have anything to live for beyond memory. It’s all I have left to my name; all I’ve left to give. All that I am.”

She turned to face the Warrior, seated before her.

“I suppose… it was as I said when last we spoke. I haven’t much left to hope for, or live for. I keep the Warriors memories, and the memories of the past, and I share them. Preserve them. That’s what I am now. And I don’t see that changing anytime soon.”

A moment of silence. The Warrior’s face was unreadable, calm. Almost serene.

“I’ve met enough people in my long years of travel to know that no one lacks for personal desires. Hopes and dreams, even after long periods of suffering and loss. Things that keep people going through all their duties to others, all the hardships; things that belong just to them. I want to know what drives you in the evening hours, when the work is slow and the memories sluggish.”

“And why would you want to pry, on that subject?”

“Call it a personal favour to me. I’d like to know you better, is all. For reasons that will become apparent shortly.”

Curious. She’d not known a soul to care much for her story, only the ones she told so well. Perhaps, for the Warrior, she could share her own. What else did she have left to lose? Maybe they would enjoy it, such as it was.

She rose from the tree, stretched, and walked slowly over to where the Warrior was seated, sitting beside them with a small distance between them.

“Fine; as a favour, I’ll try to clarify what it is I want. I can’t really say, in all honesty, I have many desires after all this time. Certainly not much worth mentioning or easily obtainable. Though knowing you I imagine some of those ‘impossible’ dreams may still remain within the realm of possibility.”

“Anything is possible, given enough time and patience. I’m here to listen.”

She studied their eyes a moment, still serene and so damned collected, as if they’d come to terms with something important recently. She couldn’t yet make out their intent, only had a guess. She continued.

“Well, perhaps it would be best to start by explaining a bit more of my history. There’s not much left anymore in the way of memory, of my life here on the First or my lives from before I took up the mantle of Cylva to travel with Ardbert and his companions, but I’ll try to give some context.”

She adjusted a bit where she sat, the stone below her not being terribly comfy.

“The Ascians kept me busy on a few of the shards, but I otherwise hibernated as they periodically did, to sleep away the centuries. In all that time, I never had desires, only missions, though the idea came up from time to time from the Ascians who interacted with me, in part to keep myself and Unukalhai pliant, that the Thirteenth would be salvaged soon. That was a desire that always tugged at my heart, succeeding at their intent.”

She shook her head, sighing.

“Always soon, but somehow, the day never came. I imagine with enough time and Rejoinings they would have truly reviewed the situation and attempted to solve it; to fix what they themselves had broken. To restore my true home, their claims about the Ancient world aside, and one I missed and still miss to this day.”

“I resolved to simply do as they bid; I often had no choice, in any case, but I also held out the hope that somehow, I would fulfill that dream of restoration. Even with the expectation that, if it was ever saved, it would only be made to Rejoin the Source in short order.”

She cast her eyes down, looking over the smooth stonework before them, gradually gazing up to the stars above, lost in thought.

“I don’t know… I can’t imagine I was thinking entirely clearly, back then. I wouldn’t be surprised if their manipulation extended beyond mere words.”

The Warrior nodded, remaining silent but attentive.

“After Ardbert let me live, and all the rest you already know came to pass, I was left disconnected from the Ascians; the Unsundered never thought to collect me. My usefulness was probably used up in their minds. Unukalhai was gone, on the Source, and I was left weakened and alone on a broken world, rapidly declining into chaos. Had the people here known of my hand in their fortunes, I would have been lucky to be ostracized, much less killed.”

She spit off to one side, thinking back on those painful early years.

“I don’t really know what would happen to me if I died. And though I lacked for desires then too, I at the very least retained a sense of self preservation. So I traveled across what was left of Norvrandt, and for a time I lived the life of a hermit, barely scraping by a step ahead of roving bands of refugees, bandits and the like, and the sin eaters.”

“Eventually, the Exarch came, and built his city, and eventually, I joined the throngs that came to live there, and work there. First as a guard, but later as a barmaid, changing identities as I had so often done before to ensure none grew curious as to my long life.”

She smiled briefly, eyelids dropping down softly in recollection.

“I think the Exarch had his suspicions, as to my nature, but he never pried or even spoke to me much. He seemed content that I was not a threat, and I never wanted to be in any case. This world, it’s people, have suffered enough.”

She turned back to the Warrior finally, exhaling a bit from all the exposition.

“And that brings you up to speed on my life, and the point where we met. Not much room for desire there in the conventional sense, or anything particularly happy. I get up, I tell my tales, I drink away the evenings, and I go to sleep. Rinse and repeat.”

The Warrior remained silent for a few moments, a hand to their chin, processing her words.

“So, with all that in mind then, what exactly prompts you to stumble ‘round the markets at night drunk and raving, in particular?”

She blinked a few times at this question.

“Excuse me?”

“I noticed the other night, on my way back to my room. You were practically tripping over yourself in the Musica, bottle in hand. Not a soul around that early in the morning to see you, but I keep odd hours. I saw you from a distance and watched for a while.”

A sly smile on their lips.

“Muttering something about there being no greater villain than the Shadowkeeper?”

She stared at the Warrior, a bit shocked and lacking for a response. She could barely remember the night in question, which was in essence the point of such intoxication, far as she was concerned. But it would seem she had let slip a little something extra. And they had no reason to lie about this.

The Warrior shook their head, now returning their face to something more comforting, with a hand reached out in consolation.

“After that night, I resolved to speak with you. I wanted to know, even with everything we’ve spoken about, everything you’ve gained of late, this new chance at life, why you’ve been suffering still. Why you’ve continued to struggle. I can always hazard a guess as to why, but I would rather hear it from you.”

She looked down at the ground again.

“I suppose, before I answer that question, I would ask you the same. What keeps you going? What keeps you up late at night? What regrets do you have? A favour for a favour, if you’d like to keep counting it as such.”

The Warrior turned their eyes up to the sky.

“The answer to all of those questions, lately? The memory of my people.”

“And who are ‘your people’?”

“The same ones the Ascians talked about, in passing, with you. The ones they sought to reclaim. I live for them, as much as I do the people who live in the here and now. As much as I live for people like you. I also live for memory.”

She stared again at the Warrior, slightly more baffled now by this answer, but more certain as to her response. The only question she could ask.

“Why do you even care about any of this? About them? About me?”

“I just do.”

“That’s not really an answer becoming of one so heroic as you. You clearly care a great deal.”

“I’m hardly someone worthy of praise; I’m just a person, same as you, at the end of the day.”

“It is an uncommon person who returns the night sky to a world drowning in light. Who risks their life in the ways you have for people you don’t even know.”

“Then I am uncommon, but still just a person. And right now, I am a person who wants to know more about you.”

Another pause.

“Out of all the people in this world, and yours, or any other shard for that matter, you want to waste your time with me? I cannot even begin to understand what it is you see of worth in me. I’m nothing but a shadow.”

“And that’s exactly my point. We both are.”

This comment surprised her, but she continued to press on.

“And what makes you think you are anything alike to me? To my life?”

“I’ve seen it in your eyes. In the way you carry yourself. Even that seeming ease you present in the busy hours of the day, to your patrons, is an act. A carefully constructed façade over the person you truly are. I find that very… relatable, from my own experience.”

A strange look came over them now; something betraying deepest pain and sorrow, if only briefly, before resuming a normal continence.

“And beyond that? I’ve seen things on the First that have rewritten all my expectations, of life and the world. Of what I am. I’ve lost more loved ones than I care to count, and been responsible for the deaths of many of them, some by my own hand. And when I look in the mirror now, I see only a shade. A person I used to be, not the person I am now.”

As she processed these words, the Warrior rose from their seat, and began to walk to one of the shadowed corners of the garden, not far from Cyella.

“Your history and all the rest, I am happy to know, but it concerns me less this night than the person you are beyond the mask you wear. That is what I seek to coax out tonight, that I wish to see. Something I’ve seen in my own mirror.”

They reached for something hidden away. A large sword, by the look of it, something wielded in two hands. It’s dark metal glinted in the full moon’s light above.

“I recall from our first heart to heart that you preferred a paladin’s arms. Knowing a bit myself about the arts you wielded back then, however, I opted to make a special request of an old friend of mine, a master blacksmith of the Source. This is the result; a gift, for you.”

They handed it to her, a heavy weight she now struggled to hold aloft and after a moment opted to set to one side next to her, leaning on the raised stones where she sat.

“Why give me such a weapon? I doubt I’d be able to wield it even back then, in my prime. When the darkness still answered my call.”

“This assumes the darkness cannot answer you still.”

“Does the much acclaimed ‘Warrior of Darkness’ know something I don’t, then?”

Another brief, sly smile.

“Perhaps.”

They approached close to Cyella, looking down at her.

“You still miss being a villain, don’t you?”

“I don’t-”

“Don’t play stupid with me. I think we both know we’re rapidly approaching the point where talk becomes unequal to the real meaning of this conversation. And your words in the market spoke as much to that desire. You miss being known. You miss being spoken of in hushed tones. You miss being feared.”

She paused. This Warrior was bold indeed, presumptuous even. They did not know what it was they were asking for. What they spoke of. But she wanted to see where this was going now.

“Alright, hero, enlighten me then. How would you propose that I come to call the darkness mine again?”

A finger to her chin, coaxing her to look up.

“A duel.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am very serious, and I do not intend for you to leave this garden until you oblige me. Pick up the sword.”

They were serious; she could tell by their gaze. Steely and piercing like an arrow in flight.

“I don’t know what you expect to get out of this; you’ll surely prove the victor.”

“You’ll understand my intention when you raise that sword up. Come.”

They backed off now, drawing their weapon.

“See if you can lift that and hit me with it. Don’t hold back.”

She rose to her feet, and with both hands put all of her might into the blade, raising it horizontally in front of her, pointed at the Warrior unevenly. The weight was heavier than any sword she had ever lifted, even in her days as Cylva.

“Ah… this weapon is no cheap trinket, I can tell. For that at least… I thank you. But again, I cannot but hold it aloft, let alone fight with it.”

“Try regardless. Humour me, Cyella.”

She attempted to right herself into a battle posture, but only succeeded in laying the blade across her chest, balancing the weight on her abdomen and with her back, not just her arms and legs, no longer pointed in any given direction. She sighed, grunting a bit under the strain.

“A bow or something lighter might not have gone amiss.”

“For my purposes, nothing less will do. Try now to coax the darkness out as you once did.”

She set the sword down for a moment, holding it’s grip in one hand and wiping sweat from her brow with the other.

“I… can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I promised… myself, that I would not. That I would never let the darkness flow through me again, as it did that day. When I stood against them.”

“And yet, that is what you desire again, is it not? The power to set old wrongs aright? You know of no other way. No other path to power, so that you might do so. You fear it, but it still calls to you, especially now that the Light has departed from the sky.”

She was stunned once more by the Warrior’s seeming ease at reading her. She’d kept that particular notion to herself, for the reason she now voiced; she was afraid, but had also made that promise to herself to avoid causing the same misdeeds that now demanded that she set them ‘aright’ as the Warrior put it.

“Where comes this uncommon insight to match your uncommon skill, Warrior? Who are you really?”

“An old soul who has lost too much, and yet still stubbornly refuses to see reason and relent. Not unlike you, I should think.”

She blinked a bit at this, then laughed.

“Your attempts to flatter fall on deaf ears. Your gift is a treasure better suited for other hands.”

“Not at all. It was made especially for you, and only you may wield it.”

“Then it is naught but a fancy trophy to be hung on a wall. I shall never be the Shadowkeeper again.”

“Did you not say impossible dreams were my forte? Trust me when I say that you have only to pick it up like you mean it to really understand what it is you’ve been missing. Why it is I called you here.”

She thought on this a moment, before raising her eyes to the sudden charge of the Warrior at her, weapon brandished in hand.

Instinctually, she swung the sword upward in a fluid motion, forgetting for a moment it’s weight as the weapon clanged against the Warrior’s own and strained a bit to hold their strength back before they relented, and retreated back a few ilms.

“See? Not so hard, now is it? Less thinking, more doing.”

“I-”

“Again!”

Another charge, faster this time. The same motion, the same exchange, only this time she decided it would be best to try and actually get that hit in. Her interest was now most certainly piqued.

“Come now, if there is no villain like the Shadowkeeper, surely she could put an end to a pesky hero such as I! Show me how you would accomplish this mean feat, girl!”

A push of energy, an exchange of motion as the sword gradually came to feel less like a pallet of bricks and more like an extension of herself. She gripped it with both hands and made ready to thrust, to uppercut, to reach for the Warrior’s neck. Something about it drew her eyes in the moonlight, exposed to the light as it was.

“Damnit, hold still!”

“The stories say the Shadowkeeper committed many unspeakable acts. I labour to believe that true, to see you struggle now.”

“Be silent!”

“You caused Voeburt to succumb to a plague of monstrous transformations, did you not? And Lakeland too, judging by the ones I’ve seen on the roads here time and again. Fierce beasts that once were men. I take it you know a trick or two like that yourself?”

She was starting to become angry at their taunts, and pressed a brief opening now to knock into the Warrior bodily, refraining from dealing real damage and focusing more on winding them, knocking the air from their lungs. The sound of their groaning indicated to her she’d hit her mark, but still they continued their barrage.

“They say the Shadowkeeper was the one who was trying to stop the Warriors of Light from completing their nefarious schemes, to bring about the Flood. Or so it was before we set the record straight, you and I. I find it curious how much you omit of that villain’s role in the tale of the Warriors of this world, even so. Why not try to rehabilitate yourself?”

“There’s nothing to rehabilitate!” She leapt back a step to avoid a blow from the Warrior.

“I almost killed them! My friends! The people who were there for me when no one else was…”

She dodged to one side to avoid another blow, before charging to smash into the Warrior’s side. She swung the sword several times, attempting now to find purchase to draw blood. Her emotions were becoming a swirl in her stomach.

“You’d have killed them, like you planned to all along, had they not bested you at the height of your power. You fear that more than anything else you did. That knowledge that you were capable of such a thing.”

“I SAID BE SILENT!” She swung down hard and nearly clipped the Warrior’s chest, taking off the barest piece of hair from their head as the blade cleanly sliced it as they drew back from the blow.

“You claim much knowledge, and I know not how it is you know so much, but in this you know nothing!”

The darkness was there, building inside her. She was not willing to press it further. She hesitated. It was all the Warrior needed to find an opening anew.

“I know because Ardbert and I are one, Cyella.”

As she heard these words, she felt her body fall over to the floor, as the Warrior bodily checked into them and knocked them flat onto the cold stones. The sword fell from her grip beside her, clanging loudly on the floor.

The Warrior’s weapon was now an ilm from her nose.

“I’d rather you made it out of this abyss you’re in. Whatever it is that prompts you to act in such a manner, in the dead of night, like you did the other night, and as you do tonight, I want to help you overcome it. I’ve been there myself, more than you know.”

A shrug, nonchalant, the weapon retracting.

“You’ve more of your old self in you than you care to admit, but that person you thought you’d acted out? That was not merely an Ascian ploy. That was you, plain and simple. And the sooner you accept that reality, that darkness inside of you, the sooner you can deal with it, and the legacy it left behind you.”

They reached out a hand to her, to lift her up.

“And like I said before as well, you don’t help anyone in the Lifestream. I’d rather you lived; not just for them, but for yourself.”

She pushed the hand away, beginning to right herself on her own, and rise to her feet.

“And what makes you think you have the right to judge me? To demand that I live? Sure, I’ve sinned. I’ve hurt plenty of people, some of them dear to me beyond life itself! Why then should I want to live, or deserve to? I’m surprised to know you even care to, if half the things you’ve supposedly seen and done are true!”

Sadness seemed now to radiate from the Warrior, as they gazed at her. They sheathed their weapon.

“I question sometimes, these days, whether I want to keep living or not. So I understand, Cyella. I truly do.”

A softer gaze again, reassuring.

“I cannot even remember the faces of my people, my world. The names of the ones I loved, once. Not anymore, much as I try to. Much as I’d like to. Neither can you, it seems. Something we have in common, then.”

This person was unlike what she had expected, in so many ways. Unlike anyone she’d ever met before.

“You felt it again, didn’t you? I saw it radiate off your aether. The shadows beckon to you.”

“No one knows the shadows like I do, even after all this time.” She needed to be honest now; no point in trying to drag this out further.

“I figured as much, though you’d be surprised how much of the shadows I know of myself, even with the title.”

“And no one knows me like the shadows do.”

“But I’d like to try.”

She blinked again. Was this really happening?

She smiled again after a moment, still panting a bit from their exchange of blows. She wasn’t used to this level of attention and interest. It was… refreshing.

“Mayhaps that is the source of your vision into my soul. Of your interest…”

“Perhaps.”

“You seem so assured of yourself, that I yet have what some would call a soul, despite everything. Something worth saving. I would know what it is you see in me.”

“Nothing you don’t already know full well you possess. Even a villain as fearsome as you possesses a heart capable of being broken, dear Shadowkeeper.”

She looked down at the sword on the ground, it’s metal still shining under the moon and stars above them. It reminded her of her sword and shield, left on the ground after her confrontation with Ardbert. She’d stared at both as she listened to her friends fight Loghrif and Mitron some distance from her, in this very keep. Not long before the Flood came about, and everything changed.

She looked back to the Warrior, who was now smiling at them again, hands on their hips. She felt like she could briefly see Ardbert in them, regarding her in much the same way as he had, when he had beckoned her to keep up with him and the others out on the road.

That sight… that memory, of their time together. That was something she desired, to recapture the feeling of good companions, and the wind in her hair. Back then, it had been tainted by the knowledge that she laboured after their demise, as she had done to others in her long service to the Ascians’ cause. And every time, it had hurt. But every time, and especially with Ardbert and his friends… it had been an experience near and dear to her heart.

Cherished and happy memories, though precious few compared to all the rest.

A tear now escaped her eyes, as she cast them down low again to the stone.

“It’s been so long… I had forgotten. What it was like to feel something. Truly feel something...”

“I know, Cyella. It’s alright to let it out. To remember.”

She still hardly knew this person, this hero. But for the moment, she felt comfortable being honest with them. Vulnerable. It had been so long, that she had held onto these feelings, buried them in hard spirits and sleep and her journal, tucked away in her Pendants room. She’d started to remember so much, so that she could keep the hope of others alive. But she’d lost sight of remembering herself.

As she thought on all of this, she found the Warrior had placed their hand in hers.

“They say the Shadowkeeper, in her final battle with the Warriors of Light, summoned up all the powers of darkness at her command to take on the form of a dreaded wolf of deepest shadow, terrible to behold, with many faces.”

She did not raise her eyes to meet theirs, but did allow herself another smile to remember it.

“They say many things, tales that grow taller in the telling. I’m sure the bards have sung out numerous such exaggerations, of your own exploits.”

“But this is one I believe, and would see for myself.”

She rose her eyes to the Warrior’s, who now seemed somewhat indistinct, the contours of their form blurring slightly in her vision, as if they were not entirely there. Not entirely as they had appeared to be.

Despite this, she maintained eye contact, and placed her free hand on their outstretched one. Fear was a foreign concept in this moment.

“I don’t believe you realize what you ask of me, or the extent to which such power has long fled from my grasp.”

“Just as before a moment ago, I could already see it stir anew. I would see it in full, whatever it takes.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to see you, Cyella. All of you.”

“Even with all of this… you barely know me, and I barely know you.”

“Something that can be corrected now, if you are willing. Mine is a genuine interest. And haven’t you been alone long enough?”

She backed away a moment, releasing her hands from the Warrior’s own, clutching them close to her breast.

“I… I can’t even remember the last time anyone wanted to know a damned thing about me. Cared enough to ask. And yet you seem not only willing, but eager. If this were merely a passing fancy, you’d have taken on the attentions of others more inclined to embrace the fabled hero…”

She started to realize the source of their interest, at last.

“But… this isn’t about an easy chase, is it? You hunt larger prey?”

“I am well known to do so, from time to time.”

“Are you so sure you can handle this beast?”

“I am.”

She would normally challenge such an assertion, assuming any had cause to make it with her. But given that none had, and given that she actually believed the Warrior when they said as such, she was thus inclined to agree. This she did with a nod.

“You would hear the tale of the Shadowkeeper, then? In full?”

“If you are willing. You can always leave, if you wish. I merely wished to see for myself what lay beneath the mask you wear, and now I have. More than this I cannot ask of you. But… colour me intrigued… by you, all the same. And what you represent. What you could offer me.”

They shrugged, smiling.

“You have no real obligation to me, and I would understand if you’d rather depart, and return to your bed.”

She almost resented now, this insinuation that she would pass up this opportunity to go wallow in her sorrows again, in a lonely bed.

She approached the Warrior slowly, to within an ilm of their face, her eyes furrowed intensely, drinking in the details of their skin up close.

“I did not peg the Warrior of Darkness for that kind of person.”

“I don’t exactly make it common knowledge. But we all have our outlets, our little quirks. I suspect yours have, in this regard, grown rusty from disuse, and perhaps disinterest.”

“Even so, I suspect I’ll be a handful.”

“And I wouldn’t have it any other way. Enlighten me as to your story, dread wolf.”

She smiled. And took a step back, arms outstretched.

“Very well. If you would desire such of me, and claim my desires in turn, then you shall have them hero. Listen close…”

Darkness now visibly rose from her arms and body, as she closed her eyes in recollection. That transcendent moment, when she had finally revealed her betrayal, and her true form. The one she had been blessed with over long years of service to the Ascians. A form exalting the purest expression of her soul in tandem with the darkness in her heart.

“By your sacrifice, a warrior born…”

All at once, a cloud of darkness erupted from her, as her body disintegrated into the shadows enveloping her, stretching out from the moon’s light above and slithering outward, to drink in the shadows cast by the keep and the trees around them. Giving her a more solid continence again, as she gradually coalesced into a snarling, multiheaded wolf. White ‘eyes’ painted over her fearsome features, now regarding the small visage of the Warrior, beaming up at them.

“I will show you no mercy, and expect none in return!” Her voice was booming, visceral, feral.

She motioned to swipe at the Warrior, but found upon contact with their ‘body’ that the paw found no purchase, only moving through an indistinct form.

“Everything I wanted to see and more. Best for me now to oblige you in turn with my own tale, hm?”

They snapped their fingers. All at once, their body disintegrated into shadow as well, drawing from a different but similar wellspring of astrally charged power, shifting and dancing in the light of the stars and seeming to stretch into the sky for a brief moment before returning to the garden, changed. An array of masks and claws, tendrils of shadow and flowing lights like leylines.

“Behold, a sorcerer of eld, once known as Azem. A traveler of long roads. My story, to share with yours.”

She was impressed, despite her continuing surprise. And it would seem she had been correct, in her appraisal of the Warrior. That familiar scent of Ascian still clung to them, even if they were now something altogether more than any robed figure she had known. Something different. The form was new to her, but no less enticing than she expected she was now to them.

“We’ve cast aside our masks, it seems, but you possess so many it beggars belief!” She howled a bit with laughter, drinking in the sight of the Warrior’s new form.

“And now, we may resume our little duel in earnest. Try now to strike me down, Shadowkeeper! Show me the strength by which you were feared!”

She grinned a toothy grin, fangs gleaming in the moonlight.

“Very well!”

She lunged all at once to strike at the place upon the Warrior that most approximated a neck and face, sinking with little resistance her fangs into it, piercing the skin and aether beneath. A struggle ensued, as both bodies came to intermingle and drown in one another for a time, weaving a complex interplay of astral power, so closely aligned elementally that, had their souls not remained distinct, they would have surely merged then and there into one body.

The Warrior soon found the upper hand, using shadowy tendrils and claws to bind the beast on all fours, and have their way with them. Leylines of power stretched outward to tickle the fur and hidden places of her body, exploring the holes long left dormant and forgotten, sensations now rising to chorus through her mind and heart now rapidly speeding up in tenor.

“You desire more than you let on, Warrior… Azem… take me if you can!”

A jolt of energy, as she bound out from her fetters anew and slammed the Warrior down, barely knocking over the trees that rustled violently at their exchange. They lay beneath her now, placid but seeming to smile somehow, as she began to paw at them from every angle, and seek for places beneath their masks that would elicit pleasure from them as she now experienced.

“Seems you have me at a disadvantage now, dread wolf. Whatever shall I do?”

“I am the Shadowkeeper! There is no escape from me!”

She pinned harder now, to ensure they would not try anything, as she sank her jaws into their clawed arms, gnawing on them like a bone.

After a moment of allowing this, the Warrior seemed to chuckle, a low baritone note unlike their normal voice.

“You have yet more you hold back from me, I know it. And I would have it.”

Another surge of energy and a rush of motion as the Warrior seemed to shift and disintegrate for a moment into another cloud of darkness before reforming behind the wolf in rapid succession. Before she had a chance to turn they were upon her, invading the spaces behind her and inside her, eliciting a yelp and then a whimper of surprise. A brief pain, followed by a most enjoyable sensation.

“Ahh… I… urrragh!”

“There we are, that should keep you pliant for a moment.”

For several minutes, the Warrior kept them there, clawed hands holding them down as the shadowy tendrils and leylines had their fill of her insides, driving into her holes and playfully caressing her every erogenous zone, such as could be said to exist in this form.

It was not all that different from how she imagined they might act in bed, in their ‘normal’ bodies; she made a note between panting breaths to try and take them back to her room tonight to see about that.

“Urrrragh! Agh! Awoooo!”

She howled towards the moon, under the power of the first orgasm, as her hind legs shuddered and buckled, and she arched her body and her heads upwards. She’d not felt this good in ages, literally.

“Ahhh…. I… Gods… you have a touch… Warrior… do not cease!”

“So easily tamed, this beast. I should like to see you try and best me again.”

They drew back their shadows and lines, and cackled, drawing back a few ilms to rest near the trees opposite her.

“Show me the guile for which you were despised, villain!”

Another toothy grin, as she managed to turn, her backend still trembling slightly. She regained her composure in short order, now beginning to stretch her body outwards and allow the shadows to erupt from her onto the ground in torrents of power, silhouetted alike to her elven façade.

“Cloaked in the shadows, I lie in wait! Death stalks thee at every turn! Run while you can!”

Her wolf form dissolved into the waiting shadows beneath, before reemerging in many directions, bounding around and towards the Warrior; three wolves instead of one, all charging towards them. They knocked them and each other around, ripping and tearing at the shadows and the ‘flesh’ beneath, drinking in the colour of their soul.

Several moments passed as the wolves clawed and teared and bit away the masks and the tattered shadowy form that comprised the Warrior. Upon having torn up their fill of them, she found her body returning to one giant wolf, and the Warrior’s ‘normal’ form there to greet them, standing in the ruined mess of the monster they had become.

“An excellent performance, dear Shadowkeeper.”

They walked towards the beast, still snarling ever so slightly, and petted her largest face, scratching at the chin and commenting briefly with fondness as to the wetness of her nose.

“You truly are a beautiful sight to see in the moon’s white light, Cyella.”

If she was yet capable of it in this form, she would be blushing now, to hear such words and feel such release as she had.

“We are far from finished, even so.”

The Warrior shifted through her body and into her soul in a fluid motion, as if passing through a wall like a ghost. She suddenly felt their warmth in her core, and the beginnings of a bright light filling her insides, stretching through her.

The imprint of Ardbert was indelible; they had spoken true. And so much else besides dwelt within them, so many faces and loved ones and the sting of regret colouring everything like a shroud on their heart.

Tears passed from her many eyes even as the glyph of Azem now found itself flaring from their many faces, as she gave herself willingly to their control and their embrace. She rolled over onto her back, and found now that the sensations returned stronger than before. The feeling of being fucked roughly from above by invisible forces.

The voice of the Warrior rang out in her mind.

“He cherished you too, you know. He loved you as only a dearest friend can. He spared you because he could not bear to see you depart from this world he loved so. And he saw the light that abides in the shadows of your heart, long forgotten but still there. I see it too.”

The speed increased, as she lay completely powerless and prostrate, whimpering and panting with ecstasy.

“I would see that coaxed out of you as well. And an admission of your longing.”

She lacked for words to speak, thought ceasing in the pleasure of the moment, the release. That long awaited release. She’d held so much for so long and now, now! At last, she could breathe. Could let herself go and melt away.

Another orgasm, this time her howling so loud it shook the building to it’s foundations, and could be heard in nearby settlements. The guards and townsfolk simply chalked it up to another wolf in the night; if only they knew.

The Warrior did not cease their ministrations, seeming instead to press their advantage anew and strike harder, thrust faster, their shadowy body now coming to appear above her and caress in clawed hands her many faces affectionately, before gripping them by the neck tightly.

“Scream out your longing for me, dear Shadowkeeper. I want to remember this.”

A gurgling sound, and a few more whimpers, were all she could muster, as she orgasmed a third time, shuddering and shaking, still unable to form a coherent thought under the press of their thrusts. It was so good. So much.

They retracted their claws and now went full bore, going as fast as their light would allow, their shadows cast throughout her whole body, enveloping her own and shaking her to the very foundations of her soul. She cried out now in her mortal voice, begging for more.

“Please! Do not stop! Take all of me in!”

Her voice did not cease to moan or run through a string of admissions, of pleading desires. Her desire for more of their boundless light. Of their choking shadows, running down her throat as the tendrils found her mouths and ceased her prattling words for a while. She bit down on them hard and drew her head back in release anew as a fourth orgasm came forth.

The Warrior, too, seemed now to release of themselves, their soul filling every space of her own as they came, their normal continence and sexual nature replaced now with the pure expression of their affection, of their desire in turn. The desire to fill her, and show her what she had lost, and what she was now finding again anew.

Both their forms disintegrated into a great mass of shadows, shifting and churning and playing around one another, distinct in the light above but only just. They mingled and seemed to draw out the last of their strength for a final push, a final exchange of thought, emotion, and carnal desire. A press of souls and energy, coming after a few minutes of heated pressure to a head. A large explosion of shadows.

The building shook further, but stood fast, a testament to the elves of old and their architects. A small crater, however, marred the stones of the Thrice Born, smoking and billowing with lingering shadows, now retreating to their usual places where the light failed to find them. Leaves from the trees and grass from beneath them lay disturbed, with several bits of both now scattered around the garden.

Within the crater, their normal bodies lay next to one another, cuddling close and gentle, exhausted, various bodily fluids staining them from head to toe. Smiles and closed eyes, even breathing. Naked as their first nameday.

“My world… consumed by Darkness… the source of my power… it has been too long. Far, far too long, since I felt so alive…”

The Warrior grinned, rolling over a bit to stare up at the stars above.

“And a mighty Darkness it is, that you hold in your heart. Mighty enough to fell all the craven fools who cling to your old ways, your old words. Just as you wanted.”

She turned her head to look at them, once again solid and serene, but now a bit drained of flushness in their cheeks and face. She smirked.

“You knew about that too, even before this. You seem to know a great deal, Azem.”

“What can I say? I’m well-traveled, and well read.”

A brief laugh from them both. She sighed.

“Was this what you really wanted? A chance to fuck a wolf?”

“It was, but I did also mean what I said. I wanted to know you, Cyella. And I feel as though, thanks to this exchange, I do know you better. And I am glad for it.”

The Warrior lifted themselves up, shaking off the dust and rock chips, and reached a hand out to her.

“I would get to know you on the road as well, if you don’t mind setting aside the life of a tavern wench and walking with me for a change. It gets lonely out there, and I’d like you at my side, so I can get to know you more. I get the sense you’d like that too.”

They weren’t wrong. They hadn’t been once, this entire night.

“What did I do to deserve these delicate attentions, hero?”

“You simply struck me as a kindred spirit. Seems I was right.”

She smiled, closed her eyes, and huffed off another laugh, before grabbing their hand and dragging them back down into the dirt and stone.

“So eager to know me, for all the shadows I possess. Come and know my flesh as well, then, and stay with me tonight. Whatever else happens, I want to remember this too. We can talk about the rest in the morning’s garish light.”

A nod, and a kiss. They spent the night making love under the trees in the more conventional sense, and making jokes and a few snide comments between moans, learning more about one another in that exchange as well. As they did, she found she felt lighter in her heart than she had ever felt before, in her long life. For this gift alone, she made certain to put her all into every movement of her body in tandem with theirs, and into every kiss and movement of her tongue.

***

In the morning, the two of them left Laxan Loft together, her with her new sword at her back, a bit weathered now from their twin duels, but no worse for the wear. They chatted about their new circumstances, and their histories and stories some more, her spending the majority of the walk back to the Crystarium listening intently, giving to the Warrior what she had received that night.

Around close to midday, she bid them farewell with a smile and a kiss in the Exedra, as they set off back to the Source with a promise to return soon, and a parting comment about the texture of her tail. Something they would remember fondly when they dreamt that night.

Still a little shaky in her legs just thinking about all she had experienced, she made her way back to the Wandering Stairs, and resumed a normal day’s shift, and another round of drinks, foodstuffs and stories anew. This time with a little more emphasis on the dreaded Shadowkeeper, and her wolfen visage, snarling at the moon. She smiled when one of the patrons joked that they swore they’d heard the wolf howling the night before.

Must have just been the wind, their companions nodded in turn to one another, hushed tones.

She beamed, and went about the rest of her day, before coming to eventually broach the subject of her departure with Glynard that evening. Giving voice to her desires.

The desire of her heart to see the world again. To breathe in the air of faraway worlds again. Walk the traveler’s path.

And, hopefully, howl like she had again, in very good company.


End file.
